Nine Lives
by No More Masquerade
Summary: It's all so crazy. One day I name a black cat Sasuke, and the next it turns into a little boy that looks like Sasuke’s kid, or something. It’s not possible: people don't come back from the dead. NaruSasu!CatNaru. Rated T - language and sexual themes.
1. Prologue: The Cat Under the Umbrella

**Nine Lives**/ NaruSasuNaru / Rated T - slight language, sexual themes / _No More Masquerade_

It's all so crazy. One day I name a black cat Sasuke, and the next it turns into a little boy that looks like Sasuke's kid, or something. It's not possible: people don't come back from the dead.

NaruSasu!CatNaru. Rated T - language and sexual themes.

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Jesus, I hate writing summaries. They never make the story sound appealing. - _NMM_

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**Prologue - The Cat Under the Umbrella**

"_All that live must die, passing through nature to eternity_." Sai looked up from his book. "William Shakespeare said that."

I nodded. People have to go sometime. People are as delicate and fragile as the flowers and the insects. People die, people kill themselves, and people are killed. "Eternity?" I asked, looking up into Sai's eyes.

"The dictionary says—" Sai began, pulling out his notes.

"I don't care about the dictionary," I grumbled. "But this _eternity_; what is it, heaven?"

Sai inhaled deeply before speaking. "I'm not sure. I only know what I've read."

I shook my head. This William guy didn't say anything about _when _people should die, or even where they go.

"Well, wherever Sasuke is," I said softly, "I miss him."

_NMM_

I awake with a powerful yearning to go for a walk. I wish to mingle with the people in the streets, to look up and see the blue sky and white clouds, cut into a puzzle piece by the tree tops and tops of buildings. I want to smell the bustling life of the town and to feel the familiar sweeping glance of everyday life. I want to be there, in the moment, down in the streets, living life in the shops and the crowds, then and there. I want to experience again that city zeal.

Opening my eyes to the ceiling above my bed, I feel the city surging up from down below. I sit up and look out the window, like kids do on Christmas morning to see the holiday snow.

The street is empty but for the mud and puddles. Rain slides down the glass in front of me.

I sit at the kitchen table with a bowl of Frosted Flakes and a quart of milk, the heavy clouds shrugging carelessly at me through the glass door leading to the patio. _Sorry, gotta do what we gotta do_. I drink the milk from my bowl of cereal.

"Whatever," I grumble, wiping a milk mustache on my shirt sleeve. Rain. Whatever.

After dressing, I find that my desire for a walk is still strong. The wet, empty streets and dark skies raise a sort of comfort in my stomach, as do the closed shops and pounding of rain on the rooftops and umbrella. Out the window, a single business man rushes by, checking his watch, his newspaper over head. Then the street is empty. I nod. Today is a day for a walk.

Outside, the shops are as empty as I imagined, several closed. The solitude of knowing that no one is looking at me, no one is out but me, is calming. First a man under his jacket passes by, and then a girl and her mother, both holding onto a large green umbrella.

Now I'm alone. At first it's nice, not talking to anyone, not working or fighting, not even thinking all that much. Soon, however, that all wears away, and I'm brought back to earth.

I'm bored. There's nothing to do. I twirl my umbrella and watch the rain drops swirl around me. Perhaps I should visit someone. The solitude hasn't worn off, so this holds no interest with me. Maybe I'd find something to do at one of the training grounds. Doubtful. There's nothing to do. I'm bored.

I step under an awning and sit on the edge of a barrel of plums for sale. The rain collides with the street as if it were a shower of tiny planets. I sigh and stick my toe under the sheet of water draped over the edge of the roof. The water pours through my sandal and out the heel. The sole squishes as I pull my foot away. I make a face.

"Don't sit there, kid! What do you think you're doing?"

I turn to the door of the shop where some guy, who is clearly the shop manager, is sticking his head out.

"Whatever," I snap, standing and taking a few steps around the corner of the building. To my surprise, the awning is wider here. I sit in the dirt and kick dry dust into the down pour.

A sound reaches my ears, and I turn to look down the alley, assuming the manager has come around the back of the building to chew me out.

"What?" I start, before realizing no one is there.

I frown and stare a while longer. At this point in my life, my ears are as sharp as they will ever be, hardly easy to deceive. Any tap, any crack, any creak could be danger, an enemy, even death.

A cat steps out from behind a collapsing cardboard box and scoots under the awning. We're silent as he begins to lick the wet fur on his back.

I reach out to him and click my tongue several times. "Hi, kitty."

He looks up at me with eyes curiously dark for a cat—his pupils, now round in the darkness of the downpour, are hardly distinguishable from their flat, empty backdrop. I frown a little, and for a moment he stops cleaning himself to stare back at me, but this is very short lived.

"Hey," I say, reaching closer until my fingers are under his nose. I wait for him to smell me and rub his head on my hand. He does so, but only to move my hand out of the way.

During the next few minutes, I wile away my boredom by luring the cat closer to me. He's quiet and supposedly uninterested, sniffing at the wall as if it were the object of his attention, occasionally rubbing his jaw against the rough rock, but his sideways glances give him away, and by the time he's close enough that I feel his whiskers against my upper arm, I can hear him purring in satisfaction.

"Purring? I haven't even _pet _you yet," I laugh, finally stroking his delicately small, sleek black head. He leans his head into the palm of my hand, and a sensation of adoration prickles at my toes. "Ah, what a sap. You're pretty cute," I say, grinning and scratching behind his papery ear.

However, once I say this, he snaps at my hand, though his purring does not cease*. I frown, and for a moment, he's doing all of the work, merrily rubbing his face against my hand. I sigh and shake my head. _Cats are weird_, I think, stroking his back carefully. I hope cats can't read minds, though it seems likely, given the sharp glance out of the corner of the cat's eye.

When the rain is at its heaviest deluge, I recall that Kiba had offered to lend me his newest video game before he left on a mission. I nod to myself and pat the cat on the head one last time before standing and opening my umbrella.

"Sorry, man, time for me to go. Catch you around." I smile and step out into the muddy street.

I'm halfway to Kiba's before I notice. I look down at my feet to see how muddy my toes have become, when I see that there are two smaller sets of feet beside mine.

"Hey!" I exclaim, stopping in the middle of the road. "You followed me! What-?" I'm so bewildered by his intelligence in following under my umbrella that I have nothing to say. _He _simply looks up at me, waiting for me to continue. He shakes a paw, flicking mud off, and licks his toes. I look up at the top of my umbrella, exasperated. "Well, if you want to see Kiba, then fine. But you should know, he has, like, a bajillion dogs."

He just looks at me, his tail twitching against the rain as it reaches out into the torrent for a split second before swishing back under the protection of the umbrella.

"Some of them are _humongous_, like, way bigger than me. Kiba _rides _on some of them, actually, like Akamaru. One of them even has an eye-patch—sounds weird, huh? Are you sure you want to come?"

In the middle of my explanation, the cat looks away, watching a woman set books up in her store window. Once I'm quiet again, frowning down at him, he looks back up at me and butts his head against my leg. He mews once before jumping up and setting his muddy paws on my pant leg.

"You want me to carry you?" I grumble, kneeling down. He looks at me with excited eyes, and, with a sigh, I scoop him up in one arm and look to his face. He seems happy, resting his head on my shoulder. My lips twitch into a smile, and I continue down the road, the cat's tail painting mud across my jacket.

When we reach Kiba's, the cat simply lies still, purring loudly in my ear as a gang of dogs bark noisily at my feet. Kiba looks at me as if I'm crazy, and I really can't blame him.

"Your best idea yet, Naruto," he sneers, crossing his arms. "Where did this one come from?"

"I found him in an alley way next to that fruit and vegetable store on my street," I say, shaking my umbrella as I step onto Kiba's porch.

"I meant the idea, dufus," he sighs, motioning to the cat. "Why would you think bringing a cat _here_, of all places, would be smart? We eat things like that for protein, y'know."

The cat begins to growl, and I leave my umbrella on the porch, setting my hand on the cat's head as I step into the house. "He followed me," I say, holding him at arms length to smile at him. "He ducked under my umbrella and walked half the way here before I noticed him." I laugh and grin at Kiba. "Ain't he cool?"

Kiba rolls his eyes. "Some ninja; doesn't even notice there's a cat at his feet."

"Maybe he's a _ninja cat_!" I snap, setting the cat on the floor. The cat seems to agree with me.

"Ninja cat! What would you do with something like _that_? Have him bite someone's pinky? Now a dog, that's what you need, Naruto. Even a regular dog would be more useful that that fur-ball." He shoots a glare at the cat, who returns his dislike. "You know," he continues, picking up a half eaten sandwich from the seat of an arm chair, "we recently picked up a stray that we found wandering through the desert—how'd you like to take her home? She's really friendly and all. What d'ya say?"

I shrug. "I can't really afford to keep a dog," I say, watching as the cat sniffs around Kiba's feet. "I'm not even keeping this cat. And if I did, he can catch his own food—he's made it on his own all this time, so he'd be fine without me buying things for him. So, thanks, but no." I shrug.

"Cat people," Kiba grumbles, finally pulling out the video game. "This what you came for?"

"No, I came to have you tell me how dumb cats are," I sigh, rolling my eyes.

"_Very _dumb," he says, smacking the game into my chest. "Have fun." He eyes the cat sourly.

"Yeah, bye," I grumble, opening the umbrella on the porch. I call for the cat, and he comes trotting to me cheerfully, holding a dog bone in his mouth.

"Hey!" Kiba shouts, snatching the bone away and moving his hand just in time to avoid being scratched. "God," he growls as the cat circles behind me, growling and hissing. "Get that cat out of here.

"Nice seeing you," I say, lifting the cat by the scruff of the neck. He hangs limply from my fingers.

"Some defense system," Kiba grumbles before waving and shutting the door.

On the way home, I attempt to send the cat back to where he came from, but, of course, he follows, so I carry him up to my apartment and leave him outside the door. As I step in, he trots in before me, and I give up.

"I said I wasn't going to keep you, but if you're not going to go back to your home, then . . . " The forlorn look he gives me sends a pang of sorrow through my heart, and I can see somebody in him—the human he would be if he were to discontinue being a cat. I smile and pat his head. "Hey, don't look so down. As long as you feed yourself, you can stay." He stands and rubs up against my ankle. "We're sort of similar, eh? No family, no where to go . . . a little lonely. But I have plenty of friends, and now I'll be your friend too, and there you go."

I laugh as a thought strikes me. "It's sort of like when I made my first real friend, y'know. We were real similar, too, so I thought we would get along, but . . . " my smile slides from my face, "I guess . . . he was too angry with his life. He kept looking back and all, and I kept looking forward." I pause and sigh. "I guess that's where we became too different to be so close." I sniff and blink an eye to keep back a few tears. "Ah, I've done enough crying about that guy, though," I say as the cat nuzzles my knee. I stroke his back and look out the window. "When you're dead, you're dead. He . . . I guess he just made the wrong decisions." Tears well in my eyes.

It's been nearly a year since Sasuke was executed on terms that he was a missing-nin and planning to destroy Konoha, and then the five kages. It couldn't be helped—even Tsunade couldn't have avoided it. I think the worst part was that I was able to see him one last time. If I hadn't, I suppose I would have been left uneasy and guessing, but at least I would have been left feeling that he was just a different person, and that I had lost my _real _friend long before. But beneath his stony exterior was the same kid I knew once, just a little beaten up, a little wiser, a little stronger, and a little more lost than before. He finally explained to me about his past, and his brother, and the things he learned just before and after Itachi died. He said he was different than me because he had someone to blame, someone to punish—I was just me, and even now that I knew the truth of my past, there was little I could, or wanted to do about it.

To my surprise, he said he was sorry. He said, "I'm sorry that you had to wait around for _this _to happen." That was all. Not that he left, or that he betrayed us, or that he tried to kill so many different people. Not that he ruined our friendship, or that he hurt me so badly, or that he never made up for anything at all. Just that I tried to get him back only to have him executed when it happened. He was never a big talker.

"Well," I had said as I stood at the door, a guard calling me back, "you're still my best friend. Don't forget that."

The door was almost closed before he said, "Yeah . . . you are too."

That was the last time I heard him speak. Of course, I tried to break him out, but that didn't work out too well. I didn't want to hurt the guards of the prison of my own village, so I guess I was too soft. I also tried not to go to the execution, but my heart really wasn't into the whole avoidance thing, and I ended up getting there way too early, standing with my hands shaking as I gripped the side of the platform. I was so close that, when they brought Sasuke out, I could see the frosty air move out of his nostrils like a dragon. He stared at me the whole time, and I leaned over the platform, my chin resting on my crossed arms, tears pouring down my face, my nose dribbling pathetically. But I didn't care.

I was so close that a guard had to tell me to back up. I didn't, of course, and they decided to leave me be. I was so close that I could see the tears well in Sasuke's eyes before they fell, as he seemed to see some worth in living, though now, his life was at a close. I was so close that I was able to focus on Sasuke's face—now uneasy and clearly having second thoughts—and ignore the executioner. I don't even know how they were going to kill him, I focused so entirely on his face.

I was so close that I could tell that Sasuke didn't look away from me when someone shouted that they had proof to save him, so close that I could see that he didn't look away when the Hokage looked over the papers. So close that I could see him smile just slightly, before someone from the audience became fed up with waiting, and killed Sasuke themselves. I was so close that I was able to watch his eyes fade, his head tilt back. But I wasn't too close.

After that, all I can remember doing was crying, starting right there at the platform. I couldn't look away from Sasuke as the audience shrieked and the guards rushed for the person who had done the deed. I watched through a blurry film of water as Sasuke's pulse was checked and medical-nin were rushed onto the platform. Until he was carried away, I watched him, not realizing all the friends who had surrounded me, or the tears turning cold on my neck and arms.

After that I cried for over a week, then moped and cried for the entirety of three months. Kakashi and Iruka visited me every day, sitting down with me until I ate, and trying to talk some sense into me. Not until Sakura said to me, with tears in her eyes, "Sasuke is better off now . . . Wherever he is, there's no vengeance in him, no hatred." From there, I began to calm down, until I finally picked back up on my missions.

_I'm still so_ . . . I think to myself as the cat rolls around on his back in front of me, _so _. . . _lonely_.

A tear trails down my face and I sigh, wiping it away. "Sasuke's gone," I tell myself, as I've done almost every day. "He's gone, dead, and somewhere else. Probably happier. And there's that."

The cat looks at me in bewilderment, and I laugh. "It's called _crying_," I say, petting his head, though his eyes lose none of their confusion. "We humans do it when we're down in the dumps. Or, sometimes, when we're very, very happy, or confused."

He pushes his head into my hand, no longer purring, and I slide my hand down is sleek, shiny back. "When I cry," I tell him, "I'm probably sad. Just so you know."

_NMM_

I ended up shamelessly naming the cat Sasuke. He knows I'm sad when I cry, and happy when I laugh. Sometimes I give him some of the broth from my ramen, but for some reason he doesn't like it all that much. He doesn't really like milk either, though he drinks it, on occasion. I'm not sure what he eats when he's out "hunting", but it doesn't appear to be mice. I read (or, actually, Sai read to me) that cats inherently can't taste sweet things, so it's rather surprising to see that Sasuke enjoys to get into my sugar dish, and accepts candy and pastries gratefully. I assume he must be a five year old on the inside. His favorite thing to do is practice his hunting on my feet. He also likes to hide and make me find him. There are odd moments when he will sit and mew at me endlessly, as if he were saying something, but I find that he stops if I pet him. Other than this, he doesn't meow all that much, though he plays constantly. I wonder if he would relax if I got him fixed, but I just can't bring myself to degrade him in that way.

I find that he's filling up a hole that was beginning to grow smaller. I think I like having a cat.

**To Be Continued.**

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*Honestly, can any other cat owners tell me if this happens to them? It's happened to me with my own cats _and_ other people's cats—they're content with staring at you or having you pet them, and then you say something mean to them, and it's like they understand you. That's how I got my first cat scratch. Man, cats are very creepy animals, although I love them.

Please don't stop reading just because Sasuke's dead! Ahh!

So, Sasuke's dead, but I don't get into the reasons and execution too much—I'm not sure, since I don't know what will happen in the manga—does Tsunade regain the position of Hokage, or does Danzo stay, or perhaps Kakashi will become Hokage, or do all the kages get killed, or what, what, what? So, Sasuke dies, which seems reasonable (except that I'm sure it won't happen), and that's that. But I _did _say that this is NaruSasuNaru, so please don't give up yet! Besides, I'm sure you guys can see where this is going. :)

Hope you enjoyed, and all serious criticism is accepted with open arms.

- _No More Masquerade_


	2. Chapter I: The Cat of the Festival

**Nine Lives**/ NaruSasuNaru / Rated T - slight language, sexual themes / _No More Masquerade_

It's all so crazy. One day I name a black cat Sasuke, and the next it turns into a little boy that looks like Sasuke's kid, or something. It's not possible: people don't come back from the dead.

NaruSasu!CatNaru. Rated T - language and sexual themes.

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This chapter was a great deal more fun to write than the last one, and I think you guys will enjoy it much more. -_NMM_

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**Chapter I – The Cat of the Festival**

"I can't believe this happened, finding that cat," I grumbled. The spell that damn cat had over me was constantly disappearing whenever I left the house. It was rather irritating, my sudden change of feelings for the goof ball. "That cat is screwing with my life," I said, flicking a rock down the library steps with my toe.

"Was it so great before?" Sai asked, resting his elbows on the stack of books in his lap. "You seemed . . . lost, to me."

"At least every day was routine and all that, though. I don't need my life as a shinobi _and _my life at home to be crazy."

"I think this has to do with Sasuke, again," Sai noted, very little expression on his face, as usual. "You don't want him to be replaced. You want to hold onto your loss and hope that it will bring him back to you."

I frowned, looking down the steep steps. Even if he spews nothing but research from books, Sai knows when which information is suiting the situation. He's no Kakashi, but his habit of crossing all boundaries of conversation can really hit where it hurts.

"Maria Robinson once said," he continued, looking out over the village, "_Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending_."

My frustration grew at hearing how close he was to the mark. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that this _cat _is my chance to make a new ending, huh?" I exhaled sharply, irritably trying to stop my tears from falling. "Well I don't want a _new ending_. I want the ending that I was supposed to have."

He touched my arm, a form of condolence he found in a book. I didn't know if I wanted to stay there and let him talk sense into me, or if I wanted to go and talk myself back into my misery.

"This _is _the ending that you were supposed to have."

_NMM_

As I brush my teeth, I look down at the sink. Sasuke lays curled up happily under the faucet, his chin on the tube of toothpaste. I scoot him away as I spit and rinse the sink out. Of course, once I'm done, he lays back down in the sink, rolling around in the water droplets.

I've been thinking of renaming him—_Sasuke_ doesn't suit him half as much as I originally thought. Kakashi visited, and when I told him Sasuke's name, he seemed pleased with my step forward to "healing," as Sai calls it. I wonder if changing his name is another way of trying to avoid thinking of Sasuke—the first Sasuke.

Sasuke looks at me sleepily as I stare blankly at him, toothbrush in hand. _Whichever reason it is_, I think, patting his head, _I guess I'll just keep his name the way it is, for now_. _I _do_ sort of like it, and he's already used to it, by now_.

"Your name is still Sasuke, so don't get confused or anything. You're still named after that guy; like a sort of memorial, I guess," I tell him, putting up my toothbrush. He reaches out with a paw and stretches before following me out of the bathroom.

Today, I have a short mission in the village. I explain to Sasuke about how I haven't been getting very difficult missions recently, but I don't elaborate on how it has to do with my lack of motivation. Sasuke looks at me sadly, and begins one of his fits of mewing. I kneel down, and he hops onto my bent knee, rubbing his face against mine, mewing all the while. When I step out the door, he's still crying, and I can hear him all the way down the hall.

I wonder if he knows where I'm going, though I doubt it, as I haven't been on a mission since I took him in a week ago. Outside on the street, I look up and see him in the window, his tiny mouth opening and closing in agony, his tail swishing. When he sees me looking, he presses his paws against the window. "Cats," I sigh, and continue down the street.

The mission is as simple as I thought it would be—finding a misplaced document of some importance. As far as I'm told, someone might be after it, but I doubt this is really the case, and don't worry about it too much.

The owner can't remember where he lost the document, so I spend the whole day searching methodically. I finally find it in the middle of a field on the outskirts of the forest around midnight. I return it, accept my small pay, and pick up some ramen, a quart of milk, and some marshmallows before going home.

The house is dark, of course, and very quiet. I assume Sasuke is sleeping, which he does almost constantly. I put up the ramen and milk and head for my bedroom, opening the bag of marshmallows as I go.

"Sasuke," I say shaking the bag, "I brought you a new snack." I step into the bedroom and see he has snuggled under the pillows and blanket on my bed. His long, thin tail twitches mildly, but I know he's still asleep.

I sit facing him and stuff a marshmallow in my mouth. "Hey, Sasuke, I brought home some marshmallows for you. You'll like them, they're real sweet." I pick off a cat-sized bite of marshmallow for him and pull the pillow from over him.

For a moment, it appears that he's lying atop a baby doll, but I don't recall having any around the house, and I lift him up, baby doll and all. I hesitate, and finally drop the bit of marshmallow and turn on the light beside the bed.

Trying not to get too alarmed, I set down what looks to be a small child, lying amidst the pillows. The tiny face has remained serene, and the kid keeps sleeping.

I grimace and take a good look, wondering what sort of mess I'm really in. The kid looks to be around three or four. He has black hair that spikes back from his bangs to give it the look of a bird's tail. He's wearing a pair of _zori_ sandals with a navy blue _kimono_ covered in a pattern of light blue and white butterflies of all sizes, over which is a black _obi_. He grips a white ribbon in his hand, at the end of which is the remains of a yellow balloon.

At first, I assume he snuck in for a place to sleep, but after reaching behind him for Sasuke, whose tail is still twitching, I find that it's the _kid _who has the tail. My heart rate quickens, and I look at his sleeping face, my eyes finally leading me to see the cat ears on his head, which I had originally mistaken for two more spikes of hair.

As he sleeps, I go into a fit of panic: My cat has turned into a little boy (I assume it's a boy, though, of course, with kids you can always swing either way), and he's sleeping as if nothing has happened, and he's been this way, home alone, all day. Pacing about the room, I decide that I should show Kakashi, and have him decide what I should do. I pick up my old picture of Team 7, in which I've hidden all important locations and pieces of information— written on scraps of paper— that an intruder may try and find. Being that I've never actually been to Kakashi's house, his address is amongst the papers.

To calm myself down, I look over the photograph and, as always, linger on Sasuke's face. I'm about to pull apart the picture frame to retrieve Kakashi's address, when I flip the picture back over hurriedly and look at Sasuke once more.

"I must be crazy," I say, looking up at the sleeping boy on my bed. I eye his spiked hair and blue _kimono_. Once again, I look at Sasuke in the photograph. My heart races and jams in my throat. "No way," I whisper.

Absent-mindedly setting the picture on the table, I step back over to the bed and gingerly take the small boy in my hands. He blinks once before falling back to sleep, his chin pressing against his chest. I swallow, noticing the paleness of his skin and the blue sheen in his hair. Carefully, I turn him around to see his back.

I can't help but to smile when I see that his tail has lifted up the back of his _kimono_ to reveal his bottom. _Kid's a kid, even when he's a cat_, I think, pulling his _kimono_ down. Finally, I look him over carefully from the back, and, just as I thought, there it is: printed at the top of the back of the _kimono_ and the back of the _obi_, as big as my fist, is a red and white fan.

"An Uchiha," I mutter, laying him down on his back once more. Slower than before, I take up the picture and, after glancing between the sleeping child and the Sasuke in the picture, I pull out Kakashi's home address.

With several marshmallows stuffed in my pocket and the little boy on my back, still out cold, I leave for Kakashi's as fast as I can move, my heart still pounding in my throat.

It's all so crazy. One day I name a black cat with black eyes _Sasuke_, and the next it turns into a little boy that looks like Sasuke's kid, or something. It's not possible. Cats don't turn into people, and people don't have cat ears and tails—not unless they're, I dunno, a _shinobi_, or demon or something. It's a simple concept, really. _More importantly, _I think to myself as I skip quickly through the trees, _people _don't_ come back from the dead_. _Not like this, anyway_.

At Kakashi's, the lights are out, which is no surprise, considering the hour. However, as I approach the small cottage, I can hear a creak from within, and I know he must have heard me. All for the better though; I know he can tell it's me from where I am, and I'd rather not have to knock, and wait around at his door awkwardly in the middle of the night.

He's out on his porch before I make it up the steps. "Naruto, good evening," he says, wide awake.

I stare through the dark until I can see him, and I find he's in a bathrobe, a red scarf tied around his face. I roll my eyes.

"Can I come in?" I ask, making it up the steps.

He smiles. "I'm guessing this late night visit isn't about any sort of devious plans, eh?" As he laughs to himself, I cock an eyebrow, confused. Before I get a chance to ask, however, he steps inside, turns on the light and says, "Of course you may come in. You can tell me about your little friend you brought along."

Inside, Kakashi is uncharacteristically hospitable by making us tea, though something tells me that his real intention is to keep himself awake. Despite my theory, I try and pretend for a moment that he can actually be a good host, and I say thank you and all that nonsense. _I _feel uncharacteristically gracious, I suppose, and Kakashi sees this, asking, "Has that cat been teaching you some manners, Naruto?"

I glare at him for a moment before drinking my tea.

"So," Kakashi begins, motioning at the little boy sleeping beside me on Kakashi's couch, "I'm a bit curious about this little kitten you've brought along."

"Yeah, that's why I came," I mumble, setting down my tea cup. "I got home, and instead of my cat, there was this . . . kid."

"He reminds me of someone I knew once," Kakashi says, fiddling with the bottom of his scarf. He doesn't want to say he looks like Sasuke, just in case I get upset.

I pull the little boy onto my lap, ignoring Kakashi's careful words, and say, "That's what I thought, too. Now, look at this." I turn the little boy around to show Kakashi the symbol on his back.

"Ah," he says, suddenly much more interested, "I thought he was an Uchiha. His skin and hair are definitely from the Uchiha clan."

"He looks just like Sasuke," I say frankly, indicating the hair. "He even has a similar nose and mouth."

Kakashi relaxes now that the ice is broken. "Have you asked him his name?" Kakashi asks, crossing his arms and getting comfortable in his chair.

I look at the little boy, who's just as soundly asleep as he was when I got home. "No," I say, touching the broken balloon. "He hasn't woken up since I found him. I haven't even heard him speak, or seen his eyes open all the way."

"Did you look for your cat?"

I shake my head. "I just thought that they must be one in the same—the ears, the tail," I point at the kid's head.

Kakashi stands from his chair and steps over to the couch, kneeling in front of the little boy. He leans over his head and inhales deeply, muttering, "Scent is similar." Then, with a gentle shake of the boy's shoulder, he says, "Hey, time to wake up."

"Kakashi-sensei! You don't wake little kids! What the hell?" I hiss, but too late. The little boy opens his eyes and looks up at Kakashi.

"_Nii-san_?" he mutters, rubbing an eye with one hand and reaching to Kakashi's face with the other.

Kakashi plays along. "Hm?"

"Itachi _nii-san_?" the boy says, squinting at the bright light.

"Your brother isn't here right now," Kakashi says, turning the lamp shade away from the little boy. "He and your parents are out, and they asked us to watch you."

"Oh," says the little boy softly. "Where did they go?"

"I'm not sure," Kakashi says. "Are you hungry?"

The little boy sits up and looks about the room sleepily. "May I have some milk?"

Kakashi stands. "Coming right up." He smiles warmly before heading to where I assume the kitchen is.

Suddenly, I feel as if I should say something, being that he was asleep in _my _house. My mind races: I can't interrogate him right off the bat; that may scare him. Should I just treat him like any other kid? But he's _not _just any kid—he's some kid, probably Sasuke, come through some strange hole in time and space altogether, morphing supernaturally with my cat. The kid finally looks at me, and I quickly think something up.

"Uh, hi," I say, touching the back of my neck nervously. "What's your name?" _So smooth_, I think bitterly

"My name's Sasuke," the boy says happily, very much awake now. "Where's my brother?"

"He—he's not here," I yelp, knowing well that Itachi is long dead by now.

"How old am I?" Sasuke asks, grinning wildly.

I'm not too used to being around kids, but I'm pretty sure that _you _ask _them_ these sorts of questions. "You? Uh, three?"

"Well, I'm four, but . . . but . . . " he seems frustrated, "but how old am I _now_?"

My throat sticks for a moment. Now? Seventeen. Sasuke would be seventeen by now. But where is he getting this idea? Does he know what's happened? Did he send himself through time on purpose? I scratch my neck nervously

"_Now_? Well . . . " I look at his bright eyes and see the wisdom there. "Uh, now . . . you would be seventeen."

"My birthday is July," Sasuke says excitedly.

"Yeah, I know," I say softly. "That's not for a while, though."

"Is it still April?" Sasuke asks, gripping his hands together.

"Yeah," I say, turning to face him, my heel tapping sporadically on the hardwood floor. "Do you know what has happened to you?"

"My brother told me," Sasuke begins, sighing importantly, "that our greens in our DMK are different than . . . um . . . " his face falls. "He said that we go . . . er . . . Well, when he said it the second time, he said we have moments of time of being in the _future_," he nods and pauses for emphasis, "and that . . . it lasts a long time . . . and . . . "

Kakashi, who I find has been listening from his chair for who knows how long, holds up a hand and cuts in. "Sasuke, did your brother tell you if this has to do with the Sharingan?"

"It does!" Sasuke says, nodding rapidly. "He said that the Shoringin can mantipulate time and space!" He throws his arms in the air here, laughing gaily. "We're gnat-run born ninjas!"

Kakashi nods sensibly. I just feel like a jerk and an idiot. I try and grasp what it is that Kakashi clearly already knows.

Deciding it's just because he has the Sharingan that Kakashi understands, I instinctively reach over and remove Sasuke's _zori _sandals. He doesn't seem to mind as he holds out his feet for me.

"Did he tell you whether he went through the same thing?" Kakashi asks, standing and holding the glass of milk out for Sasuke.

With two incredibly small hands, Sasuke reaches up and takes the glass, which is so big compared to him that I'm afraid it will be too heavy. However, his little fingers grip the glass solidly, and he brings it to his lips, taking a long gulp, which results in a splash of milk down the front of his _kimono_. I reach over quickly, hoping to stop the cascade before the glass drains entirely down Sasuke's front, and he hands me the glass obligingly, sighing in satisfaction. While Kakashi goes to the kitchen, saying something about a towel, Sasuke pats the front of his _kimono_, causing tiny, dark handprints to surface where the milk soaks into the silk.

"My brother said that I died," Sasuke says, looking up from his _kimono_, milk dripping from his chin and nose. "He says that I'll be with someone _special_.

I wipe his face with my jacket sleeve. He doesn't even look at my arm as I do so, and I wonder if this happens often. I imagine Itachi cooling Sasuke's tea, and only filling the cup half way before serving it to him on the porch. By the look of things, he probably adds sugar to it to get Sasuke to drink it, being that Sasuke seems to love sweets so much.

"Someone special?" I say, smiling. "I think you are."

"What's your name?" Sasuke asks, grabbing my knee.

I stare at his fingers, each one no longer than the body of a dragonfly. "Uzumaki Naruto."

"That's funny," Sasuke laughs tapping my knee-cap. "Spiral, just like a naruto from the soups. Spiral whirlpool!" He giggles wildly, and I can't help but smile. He's the only person who has ever openly laughed at the concept. "Your mama was funny!" he shrieks, covering his cheeks with his hands. "She named you sillyly!"

"Well, how about you? You have a silly name," I say, grinning. I'm talking about _Uchiha_—fan, and how it relates to the clan's ability to breathe fire, as Kakashi had told me once. It seems sort of funny.

"Nuh-uh!" Sasuke says, suddenly serious. "I'm named after Sarutobi Sasuke! My dad says it's cause of the Hokage, but mama says it's cause of the great ninja from the legends. Itachi told me that he was real fast and strong like an acrobat. And he was local!"

"You mean loyal?" I laugh.

"Yeah! Loyal!" Sasuke says excitedly. "I'm gonna be like that! I'm gonna be fast and strong and local!" His eyes widen as a thought strikes him. "Hey, hey, you know, right? Am I strong and fast and local? Am I a ninja?"

I smile sadly. "Yeah, you were pretty strong—actually, it's just like the legends; a gang of just anyone couldn't take you down, even if there were a lot of them. It took some of the strongest ninja in the village to capture you." His face glows with delight, and I go on. "You were fast, too. That's one of the first things people noticed when they battled you. 'So fast! I can't even see him!' they said. You were one place, and then you were somewhere else." I swish my hand through the air to demonstrate.

"Was I local?" Sasuke whispers, gasping in anticipation.

"Do you know what loyal means?" I ask, staring into his tiny face as Kakashi steps back into the room.

"Need to do the laundry—I could only find one clean towel," Kakashi says, bending down in front of Sasuke. "Let's get this wet _kimono_ off of you. Wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea, being that it's milk and all." He laughs in a disturbing manner, and I shoot him a sharp glare, at which he silences.

"Yeah, I know it," Sasuke says gravely, holding up his arms as Kakashi removes his _obi_. This alarms Kakashi slightly, until he realizes that he has walked in on a previous conversation, and he slips off Sasuke's _kimono_, a little red in the face.

Despite his reassurance, I'm not sure Sasuke really _does _know what loyal means. So far, he seems like a pretty cocky kid, though I'm not sure he realizes it. "To be loyal," I say, placing my hands on my knees, "is when you find something important to you, and you stick with it, no matter what happens, even through death and torture. Being loyal is when you will go to the ends of the earth for something or someone. If you say that you're loyal to your word, that means that you mean what you say, one hundred percent, and even if it causes you problems, you'll stick with it. If you're loyal to someone . . . " The inevitable pang of hurt slides through me, and Sasuke looks on, his eyes wide, wondering how loyal _he_ became.

It pains me to know that this tiny, vivacious kid will one day—does, one day—become a silent, lonely, vengeful soul, who was broken in so many ways by people he loved and trusted more than anyone else. I can hardly believe that a child so pure and happy could one day be wounded so terribly that there is no longer room in his heart for love, as full of hatred as it will one day be. This child, eyes shining, pink lips— glazed in milk— hanging open in awe, so precious and full of love, will one day destroy me, ruin me past all help, and break a seal strong enough to withstand sorrows so harsh that they shaped who I became. This child will die before my eyes.

"If you're loyal to someone, you will do what you know is best for them, and always listen to them and tell them the truth," Kakashi finishes for me. "Your mother is probably loyal to you, as is your brother, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Sasuke mumbles softly, nodding as he tries to help Kakashi wipe the milk from his thin torso by putting his hands on top of Kakashi's. In response to this, Kakashi follows where Sasuke "leads" his hand, wiping in a zigzag pattern across his tiny belly. Sasuke giggles, clenching Kakashi's fingers. "That tickles!" he shrieks, putting his hands on his stomach.

I watch distantly, my mind buzzing with memories. Sasuke's small, laughing face contrasts darkly with the Sasuke I knew so well.

"Naruto _nii-san_," Sasuke coos, pulling my jacket sleeve as Kakashi wipes under his round chin. "So, am I loyal?"

"Local," I say, then shake my head. "I mean loyal. Were you loyal? Well . . . "

_No_. _You were the opposite—you were _dis_loyal_. _Friends less close to me than you showed more loyalty to me in a month than you showed to me all the time I knew you_. _As a matter of fact, you were the least loyal person I knew_. _You were disloyal to me, to Sakura, to Kakashi-sensei, and to the entire village_. _In the end, you were even disloyal to your new companions and your brother, who would never have wanted you to hurt anyone in the village_. _You came to love him, and you betrayed him by destroying everything he worked for, even yourself_. _It's almost disgusting, how loyal you were in the presence of someone, and then how completely disloyal you could be once you turned your back on them_.

"Yes," Kakashi says, filling in for my silence, once again. "Once you had a goal, you stuck with it until you accomplished your dreams. You were very loyal to your ambitions, and you worked endlessly to get what you wanted. It is a trait that I still admire."

"My brother said that lowlty is amireble," Sasuke says, finally looking away from my face, which has frozen with the guilt I suddenly feel in almost betraying Sasuke to a child—his younger-self, for that matter.

"It is, surely," says Kakashi, pulling a clean, though far too-big shirt over Sasuke's head. "Some of the people I've been closest to have been _very _loyal."

"Was your brother loyal?" Sasuke asks, wiggling inside the shirt. "And your mama and daddy?"

"My father was very loyal, yes," says Kakashi, folding the _kimono_ and sitting on the couch on the other side of Sasuke. "He was loyal to his companions."

"Who else?" Sasuke asks, rolling up inside the humongous shirt. "Your daddy and me. Oh,oh, am I your friend?"

"You were my student," Kakashi says. "Alright, let's see . . . My best friend was very loyal to his companions, my teacher was very loyal to his family and village, two of my students have been very loyal to their companions, all of my students have been loyal to their ambitions . . . and many of my friends have been loyal to their villages, their companions, their ambitions, their families, and themselves."

"How do you do _that_?" Sasuke asks, poking his head out of the neck of the shirt. "Loy-cal to yourself?"

"By never lying to yourself, never letting others lie to you, and always watching out for yourself and letting yourself be happy," says Kakashi, patting Sasuke's head.

"Why do you keep your eye closed?" Sasuke asks, gently touching Kakashi's scarred eye.

"I have a Sharingan in this eye, and because it's not mine, it's always activated. I keep my eye closed until I use it in battle," says Kakashi. He runs a hand through his hair. I wonder if this is because he's not used to kids, or if he's tired. I opt for my second guess, seeing his red his open eye is becoming.

"A Shoringin! Is it mine? Is that where you got it? Is it hard to keep your eye closed all the time? I wanna see it!" Sasuke babbles, climbing into Kakashi's lap. I sink into the couch, feeling a little betrayed.

"It's not yours, no," Kakashi says. "So, Sasuke, do you have your Sharingan yet?"

"Nope," says Sasuke as he tries to pry open Kakashi's eye by pushing his upper lid up, and his lower lid down. Of course, this is all in vain, though he continues to try. "Why do you have your face covered?"

"Did your brother tell you how long you'd be here for?" I interrupt. Mostly, I don't want to see where that conversation would lead, but I also feel a little ignored. Strange how kids can do that.

Sasuke looks at me with his clear, innocent eyes. Though they're the same, dark eyes that I knew—deep, nearly black-grey with very little shine—they may as well belong to someone else. They're lit up; full of emotions I don't even see in the eyes of other people know. I see compassion glowing around the edges and eagerness burning at the core. I smile.

"He said it would be a long time, but he said—he said that it lasts until . . . until _someone learns_," Sasuke says, playing with his toes. I begin to speak, but then he remembers something else. "Ah! _Nii-san_ said that I would be here, and then I would go back home, but he said that I would come back later, then later, then later, and again and again!"

"Until someone learns something?" Kakashi asks.

"I dunno," Sasuke says, shrugging. "He said that he went back to the future three times already! And y'know, y'know what?" he whispers, looking at the both of us. "Do you know what? He was visiting _me_!" He giggles at his little secret. "He said he knew it was me because I re'gnized him, and he said that I was very strong and," here his giggles heighten, and he buries his face in his shirt, "I was very _handsome_! He said I was _cool_! Am I cool? Am I really, really cool?" He looks up at Kakashi, revealing his tiny, square teeth in a smile that suits him beyond anything I've ever seen.

"Very cool," Kakashi says, lifting Sasuke off his lap and setting him on his feet. "Well, it's about time you two get home. Some of us in the room can actually _sleep _at night."

"Well it wasn't night! It was day time! And I was at a festival, and Itachi _nii-san_ got me a balloon, and ha-san got us fishes, and mine was orange and red! And he did this!" Forming his mouth into an _o_, Sasuke pops his lips together—his impersonation of a fish. "_Poppu, poppu, poppu_! _Pichi, pichi, pichi_!"* He wiggles his bottom and flaps his arms—fish tail, fish fins.

"Naruto, good luck," Kakashi says, patting my shoulder.

"Thanks," I drawl sarcastically.

For a moment, we're both silent as we watch Sasuke swim around one of Kakashi's potted plants. "I'll be over tomorrow," Kakashi says at last. "We'll discuss this. Now, I think we all need some sleep."

"But what do I do with _him_?" I hiss, waving rapidly at Sasuke. "I don't know anything about little kids! What does he eat? Does he need his diaper changed? Come on, I'm not a dad or anything!"

"He eats regular food, like older kids, and he's probably potty-trained. Good bye," Kakashi says, handing me Sasuke's _kimono_, _obi_, and _zori _sandals before opening the door. Sasuke bubbles out onto the porch. Kakashi's eye is now redder, and half-closed more than usual.

"Should I just put him in my bed?" I ask, holding the door open. "Or—or does he need a crib?"

"Put him to sleep. Good night." The door slips from my hand and slams shut. "Good luck."

"Good for nothing jounin," I snarl, turning to where Sasuke is hopping up and down the porch steps. "Sasuke," I call, and the name feels strange when addressed to the real, four-year-old thing. "We're going to my house to go to bed. Come on."

Sasuke rushes at my legs and clings to my knees. "Let's go to my house, my house!" he chirps gleefully. "_Nii-san_! _Ha-san_! Let's go, let's go!"

I cringe. Should I tell him about Itachi and his family? Will he remember when he returns to his own time? I decide it's a bad idea. "No, no, you came to the future to visit me; you can see your mom and brother when you go home, OK?"

In time, I wrestle the little monkey onto my back, and wonder why he wasn't named Sarutobi as well. He thinks it's a game, and climbs on my heads and around my arms. I thank god that I have the build for this.

I calm him down by giving him a marshmallow, and once we're heading back home, he's too preoccupied with it to play.

Once in my own room, I set Sasuke down on my bed, and his tail swishes in satisfaction as he claps his hands together. I kneel down and take his hands to get a closer look.

"Marshmallow!" Sasuke laughs, squeezing his little fists to feel his fingers stick to his palm. I look up to see the white goo smeared across his lips and cheeks.

"Oh," I sigh, setting Sasuke on the floor and leading him into the bathroom. "Damn."

"Oh damn!" Sasuke sings. "Oh damn! Oh damn, damn, damn!"

**To Be Continued**

* * *

*Let us all commemorate NMM is having spent an hour in searching for the onomatopoeia of the sound fish make in Japan. Unfortunately, I was too tired to actually learn any of the other animal sounds while looking, except for _mo mo _– cow, and _pichi pichi _– fish's tail. Not _blub blub_, but the damn tail. Still, I didn't actually find it. I may as well have just written _blub blub _from the beginning.

I guess I tried to make it more like a published work by italicizing the foreign words, though words like _Hokage_ seemed not to qualify, to me, since it's not really . . . I mean, it's _Naruto_, not everyday Japan.

Playlist – James Taylor, Jack Johnson.

- _No More Masquerade_


End file.
